Snapshot
by Oldach's Dream
Summary: Just a brief Snapshot of a 17 year old Dean and a 13 year old Sam. One Shot.


Title: Snapshot

Author: Oldach's Dream

Summary: Just a brief Snapshot of a 17 year old Dean and a 13 year old Sam. One Shot.

Disclaimer: If they were mine, they so would not be on TV.

Rating: T

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"Hey Sammy, can you help me out with this?" Dean called from the doorway of the kitchen. His brother was standing with the refrigerator door open, studying the contents intently.

"My name's Sam. How many times do I have to say it, for it to process through your thick skull?" Was his automatic, and highly bitter response, he didn't turn to face his brother.

"Wow, you're crabby. You on your period or something?" The elder said lightly.

"What the hell do you want Dean?" Sam snapped, facing him now.

"Dude, I was just gonna ask you to go find that box of spark plugs." He held up his hands innocently.

"Why can't you find them yourself?"

"Your the one who unpacked the garage last week," Dean reminded him. "Plus you have a damn photographic memory. I thought you going in there and grabbing them in three seconds would be easier than me looking around for half a damn hour."

"Great logic." Sam snorted, grabbing an apple out of the fridge and making his way to the sink to wash it.

"Are you gonna go get 'em or not?" Dean asked.

"They're on the first self below the ladder, in-between the two old coffee cans filled with screws." Sam said over the running water. Which he turned off seconds later.

"Thanks a bunch Sam. That was real helpful." Dean was sarcastic, but not angry. He was much more level headed than his kid brother, and less prone to moody outbursts.

He made his way back outside. His brand new 1967 Chevy Impala was sitting lifelessly in the driveway. Dean had had the car for only a week, and already he was attached to it.

Granted the thing didn't run yet, but Dean was working on it.

"Needs a paint job." Sam said from the front of the car. Dean hadn't noticed his brother's arrival.

"That comes last." Dean informed, doing nothing to hide the mocking in his voice.

"You've been working on it long enough, you're not done yet?" Sam crossed his skinny arms across his thin chest.

He needed to bulk up, seriously. Dean thought. But said out loud, "A week is not that long."

"Seems like it's been longer." He said.

Dean went back to fiddling under the hood, talking to his brother while tightening a filter. "We've only been here a week and a half."

Sam shrugged, Dean noticed in his peripheral vision, than said. "Sure, whatever."

"You try fixing this baby up. She's mostly body work." Dean patted the side of his car lovingly.

"You can be really weird." Sam told him.

"And you can be a brat." Dean shrugged.

"Yeah, so I've been told."

"You and dad get into another fight?" Dean had guessed as much the day before when their dad left for a hunting trip extremely grumpy and Sam hadn't emerged from his room all night.

"What else?" He asked, with more bitterness than seemed right for a thirteen year old.

"Wanna talk about it?" He offered lightly.

Sammy used to always want to confide in his big brother. Then Sammy, the sweet little kid, had turned into Sam, the adolescent hormone bomb, and Dean was often at a loss as to how to deal with him. Never really sure what would set him off.

"Dad was being a dick." Sam shrugged. "Nothin' new."

"You know, dad trains us so hard because he wants us to be able to defend ourselves." Dean reminded him, trying very hard not to step on any unseen, flailing nerve endings.

"Yeah I know." Sam said in such a casual way that Dean pulled his head out from under the Impala's hood and looked at his brother with raised eyebrows, spurring him explain further. "That's not what we fought about."

"Well that's new." Dean said honestly.

"Yeah, I guess." Sam looked down, than glanced around their new backyard, anywhere except his brother.

"Well?" Dean prodded. "Do I actually have to ask?"

"I got suspended." He stated simply.

Dean's eyes widened in disbelief. "Dude! We've in school here for like, two days. How the friggin' hell did you mange that?"

"My teacher said I was smarting off. Then the principle decided he agreed. Everyone's too uptight here." Sam ran a hand through his hair nervously. He'd already gotten into a fight with his dad, he really didn't want his big brother to join forces with him.

Dean simply raised his eyebrows. "How, exactly, were you smarting off?"

"Well, um, ah, it's kinda funny actually." Sam flushed with embarrassment. "I ah, got into a fight with my algebra teacher about a problem we were doing. She had the answer wrong, but she wouldn't admit it when I pointed it out. So I got irritated and said a few choice things. Probably woulda made you proud. The principal didn't agree so much. Neither did dad."

Dean chuckled heartily and patted his brother on the back. Sam smiled, relieved.

"Only you, little brother, could get in _trouble _for knowing _more _than the teacher."

"Wish dad thought it was that amusing." Sam grumbled, although his voice sounded much lighter than it had before.

"He'll get over it."

"Then we'll fight about something else. Oh, joy!" Bitter sarcasm sounded so much better on Dean, he thought absently.

"You don't have to fight with him." Dean pointed out half heartedly, knowing it was pointless.

"I don't agree with him." Sam said as if that was answer enough to explain away any argument.

"Alright," he said, defeated. This was an old, worn out discussion for them. "But the next time you feel like showing off in class, try getting into a fight. Chicks like that way more than a geek."

"You're a jerk!" Sam exclaimed, but Dean could see the laughter in his eyes as he punched his brother lightly in the arm.

"And you're a geeky bitch." His lip curved upward on the last word and Sam punched him again. To which Dean responded with a mock glare. "Now you're gonna get it!"

Dean raced towards Sam, who immediately took off in the other direction. Sam may be catching up to him in height with each passing day, but it'd be a long time before he was stronger than his bulky older brother.

They continued to chase each other around the back yard, through the garage and back outside. Until Dean tackled Sam and they had a good long wrestling match in the grass.

"Uncle!" Sam finally shouted.

Dean let him go with a triumphant smirk, rolling off him entirely. They were both breathing heavily, lying on their backs in the grass.

"One day I _will _beat you." Sam promised.

Dean snorted softly. "Keep dreaming, kid."

End.

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